After the storm
I found a mummified bird
stuck deep in a fallen nest,
a flare of color punching through layers of grey.
His fight had been long done.
Lost a thousand years ago,
laid to rest right here
since time’s beginning.

His future, as with all others
teaches you to be alone
The present to be afraid and cold.
At no point will there be an option for after-the-war.
No serotonin jackpot
lying in secret like an amputated limb in the sand.

Only hour upon hour
of conversations
that feel like silence
stumbling over one another
to cover the chasm remaining
from the beautiful realization
you’ll never escape such a boundlessly
ugly place.

But you,
you looked like you came out of the sun.
All I could see was your silhouette
staring right into me
without squinting.
Scratched skin warm to the touch.
A reflexive half-remembered sentence
providing respite
amidst a world
softening to vapor.

Spinning
slowly
tussled and wild
like black yarn
in absolute silence.
Four simple words
proving I wasn't insane.
I can see it.